The tall-case clock in the front hall struck the midnight hour. The house had long since gone quiet, but still he waited. At a light tap, he crossed the room and opened the door. “Señor Hodges, it has been a long time.” Hodges straightened his shoulders and entered. “Are you here to—” Philippe interrupted. “Lady Harding is a member of my family. I am here to protect her.” The butler sagged as the tension left his body. “I care a great deal for these people and feared . . .” Philippe reached out a hand. “You may hand me the gun, señor. Thumb and finger, if you please.” Hodges eased the pistol from behind his leg and extended his arm. Philippe retrieved the firearm and laid it on the tallboy, then indicated a seat near the one he’d recently vacated. Hodges dropped heavily into the chair. “All those years ago, I never had the chance to thank you for saving my life.
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